


Cherub

by Moiself



Series: Cherub [1]
Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Dom/sub Undertones, Fluffy Smut, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, backstage sex, bottom!Tom, top!dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-08
Updated: 2016-03-08
Packaged: 2018-05-25 14:39:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6198970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moiself/pseuds/Moiself
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Takes place backstage during Raw, June 23rd 2014</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cherub

**Author's Note:**

> This is dedicated to the exquisite moxismymuse on tumblr, for she whispered back the 'do it' I needed when I whispered 'I want to write Dean & Tom porn' & to the always darling CBD. For reasons.

“…god…that  _ really _ looks bad for the company doesn’t it? I’m sure he’ll figure it out…cos he’s our boss! And he knows what’s best for business!”

“ _ and hold that look for another second Tom…ok, that’s us…and we’re done. _ ”

Tom handed the mic back to the segment director who accepted it without so much as a glance his way, already caught up in discussion with the camera operator. As he stood for a second trying to work out what to do next, the door behind him cracked open a fraction, a hand shooting out to grab him by the collar, yanking him backwards and relieving him of the burden of decision making.

Stumbling through the doorway, strong tanned arms caught him, just like they always did, spinning him round and pushing him against the painted concrete block wall. Those same arms that had caught him, now caged him in, breath of their owner hot and damp against his neck.

“I got it Tom…I’m in the match…you gonna help me celebrate?”

Tom nodded, a shiver running through him as a roughened knuckle swept across his cheekbone, skimming over his bottom lip.

“They keep you round here for your words Tom, let's hear em.”

“Yes. I want to help you celebrate.”

The older man stood back, his expectant gaze fixed on Tom.

“Sorry. I want to help you celebrate…Sir.”

“And there’s my good little cherub! Let’s go get this celebration on the road then!”

Dean brushed both hands down the lapels of Tom’s suit jacket, neatening him up. Long elegant fingers reached out, grasping the younger man’s tie, running along the length of the silky fabric, wrapping it around his fist just as before he reached the end.

The words of praise and the familiar tug as Dean moved off down the passageway, Tom trailing along behind in his wake on his makeshift leash, began to get the dark haired interviewer’s blood flowing south.

The corridor was empty as they made their way in joyful silence to an equally deserted locker room, everyone else already congregating in gorilla to see Vickie’s farewell.

“Lock the door please cherub.”

Tom turned to secure the door, the sight of Dean seated on the wooden bench that ran round the room greeting him when he faced him once more.

Slowly, deliberately Dean planted his feet further apart, widening the gap between his knees, and patted the taut denim stretched across his meaty left thigh,

Accepting the wordless invitation, Tom crossed the short distance and settled himself on Dean’s lap, eyes locked on the face of the man he worshipped as an arm slipped around his waist to hold him fast.

Taking Tom’s chin between finger and thumb, Dean drew his face closer for kiss, that same thumb travelling down his throat, while his lips devoured the other man’s, until it reached the knot of his tie. With nimble fingers, and without breaking the kiss Dean loosened it, and pulled the silk free, letting it fall from his grasp to the floor. Popping open the top few buttons of Tom’s shirt, Dean slid his hand under the crisp cotton causing the man to gasp, breaking the kiss as he teased at his nipple until the little bud stood firm.

Tom let himself slump against Dean’s shoulder as the older man’s hand moved away from his chest, making quick work of the rest of his shirt buttons until, with a deft movement of his hand and a shower of kisses to Tom’s forehead, Dean slid down the zipper of his suit pants and slipped his hand inside.

He caressed the stiffening thickness of Tom’s cock through the straining fabric of his briefs, his palm growing damp as the firm flesh leaked at his touch. Too soon for Tom’s liking he withdrew his hand, adjusting his own erection as he addressed his younger lover.

“I’m going to jump in the shower. And you my cherub, you’re going to take off that nice suit of yours. Take it all off and then you’re going to get yourself ready for me…you think you can do that?”

Tom nodded eagerly.

“Yes Sir.”

“Always so keen to please aren’t you?”

The dark haired man smiled shyly, leaning into Dean’s hand where it cupped his face.

“It makes me happy when you’re happy Sir, and you’re happy when I’m good for you.”

Dean stood, guiding Tom to his own feet as he did so, wrapping his arms around the other man’s waist and pulling him close for another brief hungry kiss. As it ended, Tom dropped gracefully to his knees in front of Dean.

“Allow me to help you Sir.”

Giving permission with a nod and a smile, Dean watched as Tom untied the his right bootlaces, carefully supporting his foot as he removed boot then sock, placing it gently on the floor before moving on to the left. Rising up, with equal care, he unbuckled Dean’s belt and removed it from the loops, coming face to face with the straining bulge in the other man’s compression shorts as he unfastened his jeans and tugged them down over his thighs while Dean pulled his tank top over his head.

When clad at last only in his shorts, Dean patted Tom on the cheek and ducking down with a forehead kiss and a whispered thanks, grabbed his wash bag and towel and headed into the shower.

Quickly Tom gathered Dean’s dirty gear and folded it all neatly, placing it at the far end of the bench before removing his own clothes and placing them just as neatly next to Dean’s, his jacket hanging on a spare hook to keep it free of wrinkles.

Resisting the temptation to stroke his own dripping cock, Tom fished around in the inside pocket of Dean’s bag for the lube, his heartbeat picking up in anticipation as his hand wrapped around the bottle.

Dousing his fingers in the slippery gel he brought one foot up to rest on the bench and reached back, dabbing at his hot little hole with a fingertip. He wasted no time in pressing against the puckered ring of muscle, pushing back to meet the intruding digit, pulsing in and out of his hole a few times before he added a second finger. Breathing through the burn, he continued to work away, opening himself up for Dean, stretching himself out to take his big hard dick.

From the well known sounds Dean was making it was clear he was nearing the end of his shower. Adding more lube and a third finger, Tom gave a few final thrusts to ready himself then wiped his hand on a nearby towel and set the bottle next to it on the bench.

As the sound of the running water ceased, Tom got himself in position for Dean, feet spread and planted firmly on the floor, bent over at the waist, both hands braced on the bench.

He kept his eyes trained on the wooden surface even as he heard the slap of Dean’s bare wet feet approach, not moving at all as a warm damp hand trailed down his spine to the cleft between his cheeks.

“Oh my sweet angel Tom, shall we see how good you’ve been? Did you do what I asked?”

Tom felt the tip of Dean’s cock brush against the inside of his thigh as he nudged his legs further apart. He breathed in deeply as two fingers pushed inside him, steadying himself against the urge to push back, at the urge to be greedy.

“You are such a good little cherub. So hot and wet, so ready for me to slide straight into your sweet ass.”

Dean thrust his fingers in and out lazily as he spoke, sweeping across Tom’s prostate, each brush pulling a soft whimper from the younger man’s lips.

Dipping forward, Dean placed a smattering of kisses across Tom’s arched back.

“My cherub…”

One arm under Tom’s stomach to hold him in place, the other grasping his cock, Dean lined up with his lover’s hole and pressed the fat head of his dick against the rosy pucker. Hips pushing forward, he breached the ring of muscle and drove on until he was fully buried in Tom’s ass.

“Don’t hold back now, I want to hear you.”

Shifting his hands so he now grasped Tom’s hips, Dean pulled back tortuously slowly, hips snapping forward in a quick thrust back in, adjusting the angle a tiny amount each time until Tom let out the cry that told Dean he was right on target.

Position perfected, Dean began to pick up the pace, the room filling with the sound of skin smacking on skin and the grunts and moans of both men as they lost themselves in the pursuit of pleasure.

Feeling his orgasm approaching, Dean freed Tom’s right hip from his grasp, wrapping it now around the younger man’s cock, working the rock hard flesh with a well practiced ease.

“Th...th...thank you Sir.”

“Let go for me cherub, I want you to let go.”

With a few more strokes Tom did just that, spilling over Dean’s hand, the tremors of his body tipping Dean over the edge into climax himself, his release whitewashing the velvet walls of his lover’s channel. Holding Tom tightly, Dean stuttered through the aftershocks before slipping free and lowering himself to a clean spot on the bench, guiding the younger man into his lap.

Gathering him in close, Dean rubbed his hands briskly over Tom’s arms, stiff and aching from supporting his weight as Dean had pounded into him. Petting and soothing any inch of skin he could reach, Dean showered the younger man with words of acclaim, telling him how good he had been, how well he had taken his cock, how perfect he was, each little accolade making Tom nuzzle further into Dean’s chest.

A glance at the clock on the wall told Dean that it was fast approaching the end of the show and their little bubble of afterglow would soon be disrupted by their rowdy co-workers, seeking access to their lockers and to the showers. Gently he shook Tom, who seemed to almost be drifting into a light doze.

“Come on cherub, time we got showered and dressed.”

The younger man made no move save to hide his face against Dean’s neck.

“Tom, come on now, we need to get clean and get clothes on, the show’s gonna be over soon. Don’t you want to get fixed up so we can get to the hotel? Get to a nice big bed?”

“Mm-huh..”

Dean laughed softly.

“Looks like I broke you again...want me to carry you?”

“Please Sir...thank you…”

He rose to his feet, lifting the younger man with ease, despite his tall frame.

“Anything for you cherub. Lucky I love you.”

Emboldened by Dean’s declaration, Tom darted upwards, planting a quick kiss on his lip.

“Love you too...Sir.”

**Author's Note:**

> Watch any interview between these two and tell me there's no chemistry! I dare you!
> 
> Come find me on [tumblr](http://sortofgetit.tumblr.com/) and chat about Dean/Tom or other ridiculously rare pairs...because apparently that's my thing :)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] Cherub](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7650886) by [Moiself](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moiself/pseuds/Moiself)




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